Atheist=Hell?

My husband, Max, who is quite a proud atheist, always says that he likes the Native American tradition, where the earth itself was worshipped, along with all things natural, including the sun and the animals used for nourishment. In some tribes, they would give thanks to the animal they had just slaughtered for giving up its life so that they may live. This deceptively simple form of worship worked because the Native Americans were respectful and even a bit in awe of the things that allowed them to live: water, animals, the sun, and many more. This makes sense to my very practical Max, because they directly thanked the things that gave them life, rather than some questionable omniscent presence.

I am not an atheist, although my husband is. I, personally, do believe that there is something out there. It is not necessarily a god, or even a presence, but it is something. I don't know what, if anything, is out there, and I'm okay not knowing. I don't think a lack of knowledge equates to a lack of faith or morality; it just means that I accept that there are things that I will not know for certain, and that's okay.

Can you be a moral person without being a religious one? Many people say no, you cannot. Without religion, how will you know what is right and wrong? I disagree, as a non-religious person myself, and one who always makes the effort to do the right thing, although not always successfully, I admit.

People come down to two things: nurture and nature. If you are raised by good people, or at least have good people in your life as an example, then it is much easier to be a moral person. Not having this presence does not mean that you have no chance for moral rectitude, however; it just makes it a bit harder. There is something in our very core, perhaps the soul, that is some unchangeable material that makes up who we are. This does not set your fate, but rather tilts your inclinations one way or another. This, I feel, is partly why some people who are victims of abuse are able to rise above it, while others succumb to the vicuous cycle. It is certainly possible to use religion as your moral guide; however, it is not the only way to live a life as a moral person.

In the end, I guess I feel as long as I try to be a good person, and succeed for the most part, it is unlikely that any deity will not allow me entrance to the good afterlife because I did not worship the right way. I just don't believe any one religion is right, so why choose one and force myself to stand with something I do not completely believe? That seems dishonest. So I continue my solitary quest to be a good person, relying on what I was taught by my parents, and what I believe in myself to be right.

A member of our bridal party was unhappy that we married in the church, because he felt as we are not believers, it wasn't right. Max really didn't want to marry in the church, but I did as it was a place where my grandparents (who both died before our wedding) worshipped at, and it made me feel like they were a part of my day. Max, great husband that he is, reluctantly agreed because I felt so strongly about it.

I know some people who would not have married an atheist, either because Max's beliefs are so opposite to their own it would have been a constant source of contention, or because they truly feared marrying an atheist would be wrong, or against their religion. Obviously, with my own lax beliefs, this was not an issue for me. Sometimes I worry about Max, that maybe he shouldn't talk so openly about his beliefs (or lack thereof); maybe I, as his wife, should try to make him a bit more religous on the chance that something bad will happen to him after he dies. But I don't, because I feel, deep in the place where reason disappears and you just know, that he is a good person, and that we will both be okay.

Jealousy vs Envy: Two Different Things?

I consider myself to be a pretty good person. I consciously and consistently try to be a good friend, wife, daughter, sister, in-law, etc. I really do. And when people I love do well, or if something good happens to them, I am always, genuinely, happy for them. However, there is in me a streak of envy, which I have in the past deplored and tried to ignore. This happened very strongly to me a few months ago, when two of our very good friends as well as a family member looked like they were going to buy a house, whereas Max and I were still searching. We were especially upset because we tried so hard to do all the right things (pay down debt, save for a down payment, see a financial counselor, and so on). I was quite envious of these people whom I love, and I was ashamed of myself for being so. However, I have come to think that there is a difference between jealousy and envy.

After doing a quick search, I found these definitions:

jealousy: jealous resentment against a rival, a person enjoying success or advantage, etc., or against another's success or advantage itself.

envy: a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another's advantages, success, possessions, etc.

Note the word "resentment" in the jealousy definition, which immediately makes the feeling more active and agressive. Also, jealousy is directed at an external person; the emotion is directed outward. Envy, on the other hand, seems to be more directed toward yourself; it is not so much wishing for someone else to fail, but wishing to achieve comporable success yourself. The discontent mentioned is from a lack in yourself, and, therefore, can be fixed by you.

Besides from semantics, there is just an essential difference in feelings, I think. Jealousy can cause you to act differently, to even resent a friend or family member for their perceived successes. Envy does not allow you to change your behavior toward others.

I still feel badly about feeling even a little envious of my friends and family, but, at the same time, I am truly happy for them, and they do know that. There are people who let envy and/or jealously stop them from being happy for others, but I will never allow myself to get to that point.

Do you ever find yourself struggling with these feelings? Or is it just me?

What I'm Reading Now: The Reluctant Queen

On Deck: The Lion of Justice

Dr. Horrible Strikes Again

"The world is a mess, and I just need to rule it."

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog at once embodies the idea of a sing-along blog and then, occasionally throughout, and especially in the third act, transcends it. All of the actors, most from former Joss Whedon productions, do a wonderful job, but none flawlessly embraces the character the way Neil Patrick Harris, who plays Dr. Horrible, does. He manages to make an aspiring supervillian understandable and even sympathetic. It helps that the hero, played by the great Nathan Fillian, is, as Dr. Horrible claims, "a tool." Harris, most recently seen as the suave and consistently awesome Barney in How I Met Your Mother, nails Dr. Horrible (also known as Billy). His mannerisms, especially the rapid eye blinks while nervous, manage to shape the character in the too-short 40 minute show. However, when the plot calls for it, Harris convincingly morphs to a member of the Evil League of Evil. His way with dialogue elevates the entire production to a higher level that, even with Whedon's stellar dialogue and lyrics, it might otherwise not have reached. Fillian, the hero of the piece, is clearly having a ball with his over-the-top portrayal of a hero who is also sort of a jerk. Felicia Day does very well as the female lead, but is portrayed as rather one-dimensional, as almost too saintly to exist in the real world. Her voice, however, is lovely, and when it is contrasted with Harris' beautiful voice, it is stunning. Fillian's slightly rougher voice is perfect for the character, and his vocals are also quite impressive.

The songs, on the whole succeed very well. In the first act, Laundry Day/Freeze ray is probably the standout song, although when the three leads all sing at the end during the What a Man's Gotta Do song, it is amazing. In the second act, it is bookended by two amazing songs. I Can't Believe My Eyes is arguably the best song in the show, especially when Harris and Day sing across from each other. The lyrics deftly wind around each other, sometimes connecting, sometimes opposing. Brand New Day, although not my favorite song, really showcases Harris' vocal talents, as well as a transformation in his character that is shown almost entirely through his song. In the third Act, So They Say, which kicks off the final act, delivers a strong performance from all the actors, and even introduces some peripheral characters who add quite a lot vocally. It is the perfect build-up for the rest of the more serious third act.

Dr. Horrible ends on a fairly shocking conclusion, although any Whedon aficionado will not be surprised that it ends on a sad, and even tragic note. On first viewing the third act, I was upset and even mad. Upon further viewings, I reluctantly concluded that it was the ending that packed the most punch, that made the most sense with all of the characters.

Dr. Horrible will be taken down tonight. We can only hope that there will be a sequel, and that Day, Fillion, and especially Harris and Whedon, will get the accolades they deserve, and we, the viewers, will get the pleasure to see them in many more productions.

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

Just a quick promo for those of you who like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly, How I Met Your Mother, musicals, or Joss Whedon.

Dr. Horrible is either a very short movie or an average-length television show, depending how you look at it. The first act debuted yesterday, and it was really funny. It is about an extremely likable want-to-be supervillian (he won't do battle in one park because there are children there), Played by Neil Patrick Harris, whose amazing work in How I Met Your Mother is replicated here, but with a different spin. Nathan Fillion, of Firefly, season 7 of Buffy, and, lately, Desperate Housewives, is his nemesis in the form of Captain Hammer, who is suprisingly (but deliberately) off-putting for a hero. Let me just give you one more taste: the first song is titled "Laundry Day/Freeze Ray." If you find the name funny, you will probably like the movie.

When I've seen the whole thing (Act II comes out tomorrow; Act III on July 19), I will blog my review of it, along with hints about my Buffy obsession, I'm sure. If you haven't seen it and I've intrigued you, check it out!

Bad, Bad, Blogger

To my possibly non-exisistent readers, I apologize for not having blogged at all in a whole month. To be honest, I was afraid to, because I had huge news that I was terrified to blog....

We bought a house! And not any house, but the house that we have wanted from the beginning. We had actually made two offers on it, but we were ignored, and told there was little hope, so we tried to move on. But, always, it would linger in the back of our minds, forcing comparisons to any other house we saw.

So just about a month ago, Max and I were getting extremely frustrated in our house search. It also didn't help that our good friends and his sister both had offers accepted for houses. We were thrilled for them, but it also made our own situation seem worse. Few new houses were coming on the market, and every one we did see had some major problem (bad neighborhood, ranch, too much of a fixer-upper, and so on). We were both feeling, frankly, miserable about the situation.

So we decided to go to Washington D.C. to take our minds off it. We figured since we weren't spending money on a house, we might as well spend it on a vacation. We had a wonderful time! As we were standing on the Metro platform our last day in D.C., Matt and I both realized we had a message from our realtor. This was not unusual; she would often call to check in. Since we were waiting for the train anyway, I decided to listen. As I did, my jaw literally dropped and Max looked visibly shaken by my reaction, asking what was wrong. After nearly 6 months of ignoring our (low but reasonable) offers, the women who owned the Holly house (as we call it) decided that if we could give a formal offer backing the last verbal offer we gave, she would "seriously consider" it.

So Max and I spent the day in D.C. in a bit of a daze. It was so close, and we didn't know if we could stand it if it fell through at that point. To be honest, there is still the slight possibility it may fall through (we haven't locked in our mortgage yet because the rates are so volatile and the inspection may have an unpleasant surprise), but I felt the need to blog about it. If everything goes smoothly, Max and I will be the proud owners of a nearly 100-year old Victorian house come October!

I should mention that we had not only given sound verbal offers, but I had also written this woman a letter thanking her for letting us look and her home and entreating her to keep us in mind if she did decide to sell for a lower price. She was apparently very touched by our letter, and was only willing to sell at a lower price to us. So I look forward to years of reminding Max that I got us the house (:-)).

So we are now on to frantically saving as much as humanly possible over the next few months. This house needs a lot of work (Max's dream!) and I don't want to struggle once we move in. The house is heated by oil, which is clearly not ideal, but what can you do?

So, I do apologize for my absence, but hope you will be rewarded by interesting house buying/moving/living posts!

What I'm reading now: The Mercy of Thin Air
On deck: something chick-lit; school starts very soon!

Feel the Heat

In lovely Bucks County, PA, it has been over 100 degrees the last few days, all day. My car has a temperature reading on the dashboard, and even in the morning it never got under 92 degrees. It was ridiculous.

Even if you're almost always cold, like me, such excessive heat can make the most cheerful person a bit more cranky than usual. So I was pleasantly surprised when Max and I had one of the best work nights in a long time.

Tuesday is Max's one weeknight off from Tae Kwon Do classes (Fridays are hit or miss, depending on our weekend plans). He goes to the gym and works out, and I usually go to Spin class or just run on the treadmill. So about 4:00 pm I e-mailed him and asked him if he wanted to kind of blow off our usual routine. To my surprise (Max is rather a stickler about his workouts), he enthusiastically agreed.

First, we drove to two houses we are possibly interested in putting an offer on (no, not the Victorian; I don't know if that is a realistic possibility). One is this dreadfully ugly former store/house that it right in the middle of beautiful houses selling for more than double the asking price of the house. Max is enthusiastic, but I am concerned because it is on a main road, and the taxes are very high. We wanted to see what the traffic flow (and noise level) was like around "rush hour" (PA rush hours are kind of a joke to us; we grew up on Long Island, where rush hour literally means not moving at all for an hour). It wasn't too bad. The second house, upon a second look, disappointed us with the neighborhood. Not sure we will be pursuing that one.

Next, in lieu of our usual workouts, we went to our gym's pool and swam laps for about 45 minutes. With the horrible heat of the day, it was just lovely to plunge into the cool water. It was fairly crowded, so we swam separately at first, but as the crowd thinned out we did our usual races (which he always wins; I'm not a great swimmer) and then just swam toward each other in our lane, his splashes spurring me on.

Max even relented his semi-firm "no going out to dinner before he gets paid" rule, and we went to a very causual restaurant, as my hair was still wet and I was wearing a dress meant to be worn over bathing suits. The dinner was just okay, but it was a wonderful night.

I've always believed the reason Max and I have been able to stay together so long is because we never bore one another. We always want to talk to each other, and the conversation is always good; last night, it was exceptional, so we felt very close to one another. It was a wonderful end to a fairly miserable (weather-wise) day.

What I'm reading now: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

On deck: A Jean Plaidy book; haven't decided which one yet.

Cubicle Culture

I spend most of my days in a cubicle. There is something inherently demeaning about being placed in a box with an empty space for a door. There is the semblance of privacy, but to me, a cubicle is always a fairly depressing place to work.

The funny thing is that my bosses were actually trying to better my working situation. I previously shared a moderately sized office with two other editors. I didn't have a lot of space, but I could kind of see who was coming, and I never felt as exposed as I do now. The cubicles were designed to give us more space (they are quite large) and we were allowed, even encouraged to order any kind of accessories we needed (bookshelves, etc). So I feel guilty for not liking my workspace at all, after they went to all that trouble. Originally, I was facing with my back to the door in the cubicle. Now I'm kind of facing to the side. When I asked about moving my desk around so I could face the "door," they tried to let me, but it just didn't work out because of the way it was built.

For me, the privacy factor is not because I'm doing anything illicit during work time that I don't want to be seen. I mean, I do visit the Internet occasionally, but I work really hard, and they seem to appreciate me for it. It is a comfort factor. If it were up to me, I would work at home, in my pajamas, navigating the keyboard between a cat on my lap and one dancing on the keyboard. Or, in an office setting, I would have a tiny office (I like feeling confined; I'm like a cat that way, I guess) with me facing the door, so i could see people come in and not be taken by surprise, and so I could close my door when doing an interview or on a conference call, or just if I wanted a little privacy. I don't even like eating at my desk because I feel so exposed.

Funnily enough, the coworker with whom I share a cubicle wall with actually likes cubicles, because, as she says, we get our own space but also share a larger social sphere as well. I can see what she's saying, but it still doesn't do it for me. I guess because I'm not all that social at work, I like to be able to really concentrate when I have to, which for me means, ideally, a closed space.

Well, I just kind of depressed myself about the whole cubicle situation. Luckily, I do really like my job, although they have made some strange time off decisions lately (more on that later, maybe). They allow me to go to school and were very flexible when I had my wedding last year. So, for the want of an office, my job will not be lost.

But I do wish I had a cat on my lap right now...